The Wolf and The Fox
by Fudgebrowniez
Summary: She always loved the bastard, and he would never know. When fate pulls two people apart, do they fight it? Or accept the fact that perhaps, they weren't truly meant to be together. JonxOC, slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first GoT fanfiction, hopefully it intrigues you enough to review, follow or favorite!**

Her feet danced across the ground, hopping over loose rocks and branches. She ran through the forest with ease, her bow nestled in the crook of her elbow. The sun beat down on her bare shoulders, the dress her mother sewn her ripped and muddy at the ends. She had to wade in a knee deep stream to follow her target. The footsteps he left were deep, sloppy tracks that anyone with an eye could follow. She was gaining on him, fast. She was one of the fastest kids her age, not even the boys beginning puberty could hide from her. Tracking was her nature. Killing, however, was not on her agenda just yet. She caught up to the boy fast, grabbing him by the back and throwing him into the ground, drawing her bow and aiming it at his face.

"Caught ya, Jon Snow." She smirked, releasing the tension on her bow.

He grumbled, a slew of profanities and broken English. "I stand no chance against ya, Alyce McConnell."

She laughed. "Anyone with a brain would know that. I don't know why ya keep trying."

"Lord Stark wants me training so I can be as good as Robb and one day, him." He dusted the dirt off his pants.

Alyce snickered. "You're a bastard, Jon Snow. Doesn't matter if you get as good as Ned Stark. You'll never be good enough."

Jon Snow was an easy target for her. He was quick to anger, easy to fail. "You're just a bitch."

"Shut up before I knock your teeth in." Alyce snarled back.

Jon lunged for her, pushing her into the ground. They wrestled, teeth barred and claws out. She threw the boy off of her, pulling out the small dagger her father had given her for skinning rabbits. She straddled him, pointing the dagger at his throat.

"What in the hell is going on here?" She heard the booming voice of Ned Stark.

"I'm sorry Lord Stark, Jon attacked me after I caught him." Alyce boasted, climbing off Jon.

He shook his head, turning to Jon. "Boy, go clean up and help your mother with dinner. No training for the rest of the night."

Jon sneered at Alyce, wiping the dirt off his pants.

"Where did you get that dagger, girl? That's no toy." Ned took the knife from her, examining it.

"My father gave it to me. For when I go out hunting and need to skin things." She explained.

Ned laughed. "Shouldn't you be with Septa, learning how to sew? Girls don't need to know how to kill."

Alyce shook her head furiously. "I'd rather kill a thousand men than have to learn how to sew dresses, my Lord."

"You sound like my Arya. Come, I'm sure your mother has dinner waiting for you."

Alyce was escorted back into Winterfell by the Lord himself. Ned Stark was a family friend, Alyce's father advised him on small matters regarding the town. Their families were close as well, many of the Stark's would come over for dinner or just to chat and drink ale. Alyce watched as her eldest sister Mirinda swooned over Robb Stark, or when her younger brother Jerrin nearly got stabbed by a fork by Arya. They were almost like family, but blood was thicker than water here. Any of them would kill her without a second thought if their family name was in danger. Both families were of noble dissent, yet the Stark's were in control now.

Ned knocked on her family's door, Alyce in tow. Her mother answered the door, Alyce's youngest brother Toph balanced on her hip. He was a wee babe, only 3 years of age. He had the McConnell's signature white blonde hair, stunning blue eyes, and a jagged baby tooth in the center of his mouth. It was taking Toph an abnormally long time to grow in his first set of teeth, but the Maester was certain there shouldn't be any concern. Alyce's mother, Violet of house Tyrell, was a round, burly woman with a kind smile and an even kinder tongue. She had chestnut brown hair, warm eyes and a tiny button nose. She was married to father at age 16, and hadn't stopped popping babies out since.

"I found yer daughter trying to slit my Jon's throat in the woods. Thought I should bring her back home for that delicious dinner I smell cooking." Ned explained.

"Alyce, go speak to your father about this. That is no way to act, young lady." Violet scolded her, turning her eyes to Ned. "We're making a pig roast, you and your family are free to join."

"Ah, my wife is already slaving over the fire or else I would take you up on that. Is Greggard home?" Ned asked.

Alyce slithered in the house, bored by the conversation between Ned and her mother. Greggard McConnell was sitting at the head of the table, drinking ale and chatting with his sons. Orelian was the eldest son, heir to the McConnell estate and fortune. He was a brooding man, choosing not to take on a wife until father dies. Warren was the second in line, if you didn't count the two sisters born before him. He had mother's features, and was ridiculed constantly for not looking like a McConnell.

"Father, I got in trouble today." Alyce stated, standing next to her fathers chair.

He looked up from the documents on the table, scratching his grey goatee. He was an old man, balding and heavily wrinkled. He had a thick scar on his face, that started at his ear and ended at the jaw. He was wounded while serving in the Barratheon army down south.

"And what exactly did you do, girl?" He asked, sounding more annoyed than he was angry.

"I was out training Lord Stark's bastard boy when he started calling me names. So I took the dagger you gave me out and put it at his throat, threatening to kick his teeth in if he ever tried to fight me again." She explained, her eyes on the floorboards.

"Atta sister, sticking up for yourself." Orelian chuckled, Warren just shaking his head.

"Alyce, please think of who you're threatening to kill next time. Jon is family, just like the rest of the Starks. Now go clean up for dinner, you have dirt all over your jacket." Greggard dismissed her with a slight smirk on his face.

She nodded, grateful that there was no punishment. At least, no punishment yet. Sometimes father would spank her when she would come home after dark, or lash her with a belt in extreme cases. He never seemed happy punishing his daughters, knowing they were weaker than the boys. Father would constantly beat on Orelian and Warren, thinking that pain is what would make the boys into men. Orelian was hardly 15. Warren only 12. The next generation of McConnell's were still young, growing into what her father hoped, kings and queens. Alyce was never interested in that. The only thing that interested her was the wind beneath her feet, the rush of chasing down her target.

In her room, Alyce changed out of her hunting outfit into a pale green dress. Her nearly white blonde hair was in knots, taking several minutes to untangle. Many commonfolk thought that the McConnell's looked too similar to the Mad King, and whispers of muddy Targaryen blood were heard in the town. Alyce knew little of the Targaryen ruler, only of the horrendous things he had done to the people of the Seven Kingdom. Apparently he had a daughter and a son alive somewhere in the world, vying for their rightful seat on the Iron Throne. Like that would ever happen. She quickly plaited her hair, clipping it back with an ornate brass clip.

"Family, dinner is ready!" She heard her mother call, and rushed down the stairs. Dinner was always her favorite meal.

4 Years later

She woke up to a snowflake flitting onto her nose. Alyce had forgotten to close her window before falling asleep, and it had snowed overnight. The Starks were right, winter is coming. Alyce no longer could venture out into the forest, as the snow drifts were nearly knee high. Her room was bitterly cold, and her feet nearly froze to her slate floor as she ran to shut the window. She cursed herself for needing air last night. Alyce was hoping her handmaiden would visit soon, so she could tend to the fire. It was now just a pile of red hot embers and ash, nothing that could warm her room. Alyce's yellow nightdress was too light to be any sort of insulation. She jumped back into her warm bed, snuggling in between the fur blankets.

Her handmaiden came in about thirty minutes later. Selma Snow was a fair skinned beauty, for a bastard at least. Alyce was of noble blood, and was almost forced to look down upon bastards. All but one bastard. She shook the thought of him out of her mind, trying to stop the smile from creeping upon her lips whenever she thought of him.

"Could you start up a new fire in the hearth please, Selma?" Alyce asked her.

She nodded, setting down a couple of towels on Alyce's desk. "Would you like me to run you a bath before breakfast, My Lady?"

Alyce sat up in bed, stretching her back. "That would be great, thank you."

She watched, somewhat disinterested, as Selma tended to her room. She had a routine, that Alyce had also memorized. Selma would first empty her bed pot, cleaning it once a day. Then she would pick up any clothes Alyce had been too lazy to fold, putting them in a wicker basket to be washed. After that, Selma would take out all the dirty dishes from Alyce's dinner. Alyce liked to eat alone nowadays, yet she would usually have one or two Stark's or siblings in her room. Occasionally even Theon Greyjoy would show up.

"Your father has requested you in his room after breakfast, My Lady." Selma informed her.

Alyce was slightly confused. "Oh, alright. Thank you."

She followed Selma into the bathing room, getting undressed in front of the floor to ceiling mirror. She was nearly 18, her name day in only a fortnight. Her body had blossomed into womanhood. Alyce was still childhood height, with a mature body and face. She had grown out her nearly snow white colored hair to her waistline, which required daily baths to comb out the knots. Alyce lowered herself into the porcelain tub, the hot water tingling on her skin.

Selma scrubbed her back first, before pouring slightly cooler water from a basin over her scalp. Alyce focused on the small lavender petals and roses that floated in the water, giving off a fragrant odor that would follow her throughout the day. After her bath, Selma dried her hair with a towel and intricately braided it. Selma handed her one of Alyce's favorite dresses, a light blue number with gold silk spun in as an accent.

When she was fully dressed and ready for the day, she was ready to break her fast. Breakfast was already laid out on her bedroom table, thanks to the cooks her father hired. Golden toast, fresh goat butter and milk, with an assortment of fruits and pastries. Seated at the table, waiting for her, was Robb and Arya Stark.

"Goodmornin', Alyce." Arya said in between mouthfuls of sweet rolls.

Alyce laughed at the child, and her lack of manners. Robb was a bit more refined, waiting for Alyce to sit down before eating. The two were the quietest behind Jon, and this was no exception. They ate mainly in silence, only stopping to chat whenever Arya brought up some wild adventure in the forest. Alyce was slightly jealous of the child, still being young enough to play in the woods. Now, Alyce had family duty to attend to.

"Apparently my father wants to have a meeting with me after this meal." Alyce complained, buttering her last piece of toast.

"Probably about finding you a husband." Robb responded, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes, playfully pointing her butter knife at the eldest Stark. "You may be a Lord soon, but you'll never get anywhere near me boy."

"That mouth is going to get you in trouble, Lady." Robb chastised with a smile.

Alyce took a barbaric bite of her toast, cocking her eyebrows at Robb. She wouldn't let any man tell her what to do. The only man who had power over her now was her father. Alyce thought of her brothers as her equals, even though their gender proved otherwise. Orelian was a year older than her, but was much more mature. Father was getting older, and his deathbed seemed to be looming closer. Orelian was going to be the next Lord McConnell, much to Warren's jealousy. Warren had married a girl from King's Landing, and had moved there to start popping out McConnell babies.

After eating, she excused herself to her father's sleeping quarters. Mother was pregnant again, and was so large she couldn't share a bed with father anymore. She was due any day now, it was just a waiting game. Maester was convinced it was another boy, but mother doubted that. She told Alyce that all McConnell girls kicked up a storm in her womb, and this baby had already kicked a rib out of place.

She knocked three times, before cracking the door open. "Father?"

He was sitting at his polished oak desk, pondering over a letter. She could tell he was unhappy, as his brow was furled and his thumb was placed on the bridge of his nose. He was once a regal looking man, with broad shoulders and thick legs. Now, in his old age, he started to look frail.

"My beautiful daughter. Come, sit please." He motioned for the chair that was placed in front of his desk.

"Am I to be punished for something?" Alyce asked, making sure to keep her head bowed. It was a sign of respect to her father.

"Quite the opposite. You know now that you are quite old to still be unwed, yes?" He asked.

She felt her breath catch. "Did you send out a marriage request?"

"I did. You've been invited to King's Landing to meet Lord Jaquan. He lives in Meereen but is in King's Landing for political reasoning. He has a lot of power with the Lannisters."

She crinkled up her nose. "You're marrying me off to a Lannister supporter? You saw what happened to Bran when they visited here."

Lord McConnell sighed. "I know, Alyce. But our family needs more ally's. We are an unknown family, and marrying you off to a southern Lord will help mend those… tricky relationships."

"When do I leave?" Alyce tried to hold off her tears. This was her home. Not some southern pyramid in the middle of the desert.

"In a fortnight, the day after your nineteenth nameday. He is travelling here so you do not have to go to King's Landing alone. The Starks are also going to be there, you will not be alone."

"All of them?" She exclaimed. Luckily she caught her tongue before asking about who specifically would be going. No one was to know her true feelings for a certain Stark.

"No. Just the Lord, Arya and Sansa. He has been asked to be Hand to the King by Robert." Father showed no resentment.

Alyce knew father secretly resented Lord Stark. He was everything her father wished to be. His family name was powerful, everyone knew of the direwolf clan and their ruthless leader. Her father fought beside Ned numerous times, and was never given the recognition the Starks were. Marrying Alyce off would hopefully give him that power.

"What about the others? Lord Stark is just abandoning his wife?" She didn't want to pry.

"Robb is to become Lord of Winterfell. Catelyn is staying here to take care of Bran and Rickon. That bastard Ned raised is going to the Wall."

Her heart dropped. Jon was going to the Wall? She would never see him again, the second he takes the pledge she would lose him forever. She excused herself from her father, an action that is normally seen as rude. But her father seemed to be indifferent, going back to the writings on his desk. She felt tears pricking her eyes, which nearly froze to her face as she ran outside of her house. She knew exactly where Jon Snow would be. Training.

She walked to the training courtyard, trying to keep a calm face. She didn't want the commonfolk to see her cry, or anyone for that matter. Crying was for weak women, she was strong. Jon's back was to her, as he was swinging his sword over and over into a sack of grain. Robb was leaning against one of the walls, critiquing his half brother. He saw Alyce, slightly disheveled, and excused himself. Jon turned to look at her, and all she could feel towards him was anger.

"So you just weren't going to tell me then?" Her voice was only a whisper, but Jon recoiled.

"Alyce, I was going to. I didn't want to hurt you."

She felt hot tears spilling over, but she didn't care. The courtyard was deserted, as it was too early for most to be training. Jon was always an over achiever. Not like that mattered, with his heritage.

"Hurt me? You couldn't hurt me. I thought we were friends, Jon. Friends talk about this kind of shit before making rash decisions." Alyce swore, something that rarely happened. Swearing wasn't ladylike.

"I'm a bastard, Alyce. What else do I have to live for? Robb is going to be Lord of Winterfell, Sansa is betrothed to a prince, Catelyn wishes I was dead. The Wall is the only place where I can make a difference." He held Alyce by the shoulders, lowering his head to look into her eyes.

"Well, it's not like I'm staying here anyways. Father married me off to a Lord in Meereen." She snipped, trying to pull out of his touch.

She saw the hurt in Jon's eyes after she told him the news. "You're getting married?"

Alyce scoffed. "It's not like it's my choice. I leave the day after my nameday."

"Well, then I'll be here to see you leave. I won't be leaving until my Uncle comes back." He tried to smile, but it looked like a grimace.

Alyce would never admit she loved the bastard. It had happened gradually, and then all at once. She was 16 when she realized she had fallen for him. It was nothing but a torturous love, as she would never be wed to him. She was of noble blood, marrying a bastard was political and social suicide. However, when it was late at night his eyes were the ones she dreamt of.

"I can't believe you're giving up your entire life because you think you aren't worth more, Jon Snow." Alyce shook her head at him.

"I could say the same for you. You're a northerner, you belong here."

Alice was getting more and more bitter. "You think I have a choice? This is my family duty. Father think's it will give us power in the south."

He sighed, pulling his hands through his thick, black hair. How she wished she could do that to him.

"I thought we'd both grow old here." She continued, looking around at the thick cobblestone walls. "Start families, our children playfighting eachother out in the woods."

Jon snorted. "You think a girl here would want to marry Ned Stark's bastard?"

More than you know, she thought to herself. Instead, she bit her tongue.

"What the hell are you two doing up so early?" Theon Greyjoy's voice boomed through the training courtyard, startling her.

"Am I not allowed to speak to my family's closest ally, Theon?" Alyce returned, a smirk on her lips.

"He ain't a Stark, you know that." Theon lowered his voice a few octaves, speaking of a bastard was like cursing in front of Septa.

"I won't treat him any different than a trueborn." She raised her chin.

"M'lady, this is no place for you. Shouldn't you be learning to sew, or whatever it is you women do with your free time?" Theon said, his tone kind.

"Technically this is no place for me but" Alyce paused, taking a second to wet her pointer finger with her saliva "You can't tell me what to do!" She lunged for him, sticking her wet finger in his ear.

"Oh you little twat!" Theon laughed, playfully pushing her off.

Theon and Alyce had a bond others turned their noses up to. Theon treated her like a younger sibling, constantly teasing and prodding at her. They would spend warm summer days play fighting with sticks out in the fields by the Wierwood, sometimes with the other members of her family. Theon was the reason Warren had an ugly scar above his eyebrow, as the stick he was fighting with snapped right in his face.

"I'll talk to you at dinner, Jon Snow." Alyce called over her shoulder, trying to hold in the tears.

"Alyce, wait!" Jon called, but she did not look back.

For once, Alyce didn't feel bad for hurting him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the favorites/Follows! I really appreciate the support for the first chapter!**

 **Enjoy!**

She walked into her bedroom to find it spotless. Selma took her job a bit too seriously, Alyce wasn't nearly as snobby about her room as the other noble women. There was a fire crackling in the hearth, as well as finger foods and a goblet of wine on the table. Her father seemed to have deemed her of age to drink wine freely. She preferred the taste of drinks with more alcohol, however.

Alyce went to the table, pouring herself a glass of the dark liquid. She noticed wooden box on the table, encased in a rich maroon velvet. There was a piece of weathered parchment paper on top, her name printed in luxurious calligraphy. Everything about the gift screamed Southern. The paper was sealed with wax, a sigil pressed into it. It was a jaguar.

"To my dearest Alyce McConnell. I hope you shine as bright as these jewels on the night we finally meet. With best regards, Drako Jaquan."

Her breath caught in her throat. It was a slight relief the man seemed like a gentleman, and not coming to take her as a slave. A lot of the women in Meereen were imprisoned to their spouse, living only to pop out children to keep family names alive.

Inside the box was a necklace that looked heavy enough to be a weapon. It was gold, with pink colored diamonds and emeralds pressed into the intricate metal. In the center was the largest gem she had ever seen, a bright blue aquamarine. Her hands shook as she palmed over the necklace, feeling unworthy of even looking at it.

"Would you like me to fasten that for you?" A voice startled her from the door, Robb.

"Oh," She swallowed quickly "That would be lovely."

She handed the necklace to Robb, turning around to present the back of her neck to him. He brushed her hair aside with his gloved hands, fastening the chain around it.

"Gift from your betrothed?" He asked gruffly, sitting down at her table and pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Yes. He seems to think I'd be impressed with shiny jewels." She nibbled on a piece of goats cheese.

"You're saying you aren't impressed by that? Not sure what else a man could do to win your love then." He laughed, a warm noise filling her room.

"I never wanted a man to have to win my affection. I guess I just held onto the fantasy I would marry the man I love."

"You and Jon?" He raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his lips.

She choked on her wine, coughing up her sip. "I am not in love with your brother!"

"You may be able to fool everyone else, Alyce. But I see how you two look at each other when you think no one is looking."

"Jon doesn't think of me that way. I'm still that child who would beat the life out of him in the forest." She sighed softly. Lying to Robb was nearly impossible.

"Look, I'm no expert on love. But from how he talks about you, the feelings are there. Not that that matters, anyways." He finished his wine, standing to exit. "Alyce?"

"What is it?" She said a bit too eagerly, mentally scolding herself.

"You have a fortnight left with him before he goes to die at the wall. I think both of you deserve to know what true love feels like, even if it's not going to last." And with that, he was gone.

Alyce let out a groan, letting her head rest on the back of her chair. She realized how much she didn't want to leave Winterfell. This was her home, where she was birthed and raised. She grew up to the feeling of grass underneath her feet, not hot sand. She didn't look anything like a southerner, her pale skin a dead giveaway. During the blissful summer Alyce was kissed by the sun, but mainly burned if left outside for too long. She would look as red as an apple down in the south. She sat like this for what seemed like hours, drinking until her body felt warm and fuzzy.

"Mom, can I go out and play today?" Alyce asked, trying to wash the silverware as fast as humanly possible.

"Oh honey, im not so sure. Greggard, didn't you say that Renald boy got attacked by a wolf?" Violet called to her father, who was still sitting at the dining table.

"He didn't get attacked, nearly shit his pants when it came up to take a sniff of him." Greggard's voice carried throughout the whole house, as Alyce heard her sister giggle.

"Watch your tongue around the children please." Violet scolded her husband. "Be home by dusk, and bring one of the boys out with you."

"But mom, I was already going out with Theon, Robb, And Jon." Alyce whined, her last want was to drag along her baby brothers.

"Fine, just be safe." Violet kissed her daughter on the forehead.

Alyce ran out of the house, barely lacing up her hunting boots by the time she met up with the boys. She wore leather riding pants, and a white cotton shirt that left little to the imagination. She was 14, her body beginning to bud into adulthood. Her breasts ached, and she had started to bleed two moons earlier.

"How can you get away with running around with your tits popping through your shirt, girl?" Theon jabbed her in the ribs as she untied her horse, Pippen.

"Eww Theon, I don't want you staring at my breasts. You can have fun with those girls at the brothel with huge knockers!" Alyce stuck her tongue out at him, while he tried to pinch at her nipples.

"Theon, leave her alone." Alyce heard Jon snap, the playfulness lost.

"Ah, don't be a fun ruiner, bastard!" Theon responded, grabbing Alyce by the sides to help her on her horse.

"Are we going to go out or pick at eachother all day?" Robb galloped towards them, his steed shiny from a new wash.

"Don't rope me into this!" Alyce held her hands up, before grabbing onto Pippen's reigns.

Pippen was a butter colored mare, the same age as her. She had been riding the horse for nearly 4 years now, and they had a bond not many others had with their horses. Alyce would sneak out after mother and father fell asleep to lay in the hale bales and stroke her black mane. Alyce kicked the stirrups in, causing Pippen to turn her trot into a sprint.

"Catch me if you can, boys!" She called, exploding through the town and nearly toppling over a merchants catch of the day basket.

She rode neck and neck with Robb, his horse much taller and stronger than her own. They made it to the wierwood at a dead tie, Jon and Theon breathless behind them.

"So who wants to hide, and who wants to seek?" Theon asked, jumping off of his steed.

They took turns hiding from each other for most of the midday, stopping only when Theon and Robb got into a wrestling match over a spot. Theon sported a reddened eye which would bruise over, and Robb with a thick cut on his shoulder blade. The group came together under the massive weirwood, it's red leaves shading them from the cruel midday sun. Alyce went to unpacking the lunches, while the men went off to train with swords and swim in the creek. Alyce was no longer allowed to train with swords and knives, other than the dagger she kept from her father. She was supposed to be a refined woman now, one a man would marry one day. Hopefully later rather than sooner.

"Jon, lunch is unpacked!" She called, knowing the bastard would be sitting out of Theon and Robb dueling.

She walked to the nearby creek, crouching behind a tree when she saw Jon. He was up to his knees in the cool water, peeling his dripping shirt off and throwing it onto the bank. She couldn't help but drag her eyes up and down his body, her heart racing and mouth drying. He was a beautiful man, with a body nearly done growing. Alyce could no longer doubt her feelings for him, as they had carried over into womanhood.

"Enjoying the show?" She heard as two pairs of hands grabbed onto each shoulder.

"You scared the fuck out of me!" She exclaimed, before swiftly apologizing for the curse.

"I think that deserves a dunk in the creek!" Theon yelled, catching Jon's attention.

The two boys dragged her to the shore, her legs kicking up dirt and rock as she begged not to. The water was cool yet refreshing as it hit her back, her hot skin cooling. She fully submerged herself, slicking back her white blonde hair and spitting water out of her mouth like a fountain.

"You boys are going to get it!" She exclaimed.

Jon's POV

He hit the bag of grain with all his force, his sword impaling it over and over. Beads of sweat accumulated on his forehead and under his clothing, but he didn't notice. All his anger, his sadness, was taken out on the training dummy. He refused to think about her, those beautiful doe eyes shedding tears because of him. He knew the decision to leave would devastate Alyce, but it was the right thing to do. Jon needed a purpose, a reason to wake up every morning and to fall asleep each night.

"What's on your mind, boy?" Jon stopped whacking the grain bag as his father approached.

"Just excited to go to the Black, sir." He lied coolly.

"The wall's always gonna be there, you don't have to leave so young." Father had been trying to keep him here since Uncle told him.

"I'm ready. It's not like this town will ever accept me." Jon turned back to hitting the dummy.

Ned sighed. "Don't put all your weight into your swing. You're off balanced."

And with that, he left him. Jon and Ned's relationship was only skin deep. He knew his father cared about him and loved him, but didn't want to coddle him like he did his family. His wife saw to that as well. Catelyn would watch him with a bitter grimace, as if his existence plagued her. Jon knew what he meant to her, a permanent reminder of his father's infidelity. Catelyn even went so far as to give him a separate wet nurse and a mean Septa, while the Stark kids were bathed in love and affection from their caregivers. Jon wished he was a trueborn, for many reasons. The honor, the money, the power. And her.

He saw a flash of bright white hair that could only belong to a McConnell. It was even lighter than the Targaryans, father said. It was a mystery of how the McConnell's were given such beautiful looks, as all of the family were blessed with pretty faces and strong bodies. Alyce, however, was a goddess. She wore a lavender colored dress, the corset tied too tight as always. Her Septa wanted all the boys to see her hourglass figure, apparently. Even though she was betrothed to a foreign man in a foreign town. That thought brought bile to his mouth.

Alyce was walking the board walk with her brother Orelian, her arm wedged awkwardly into his elbow. Their family had an odd dynamic, Greggard McConnell ruled his family like a town. She was his prized possession, the beauty that would bring them political gain in the south. Jon threw his sword down, kicking his shoes into the dirt. Why couldn't he get this girl out of his mind? She was always a background thought, a what if, but since her learning of his vow to take the Black, she was a constant thought.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as she leaned against the railing of the walkway above ground, a massive necklace sparkling in the winter sun. Jon never understood the point in something as useless as jewelry. That money easily could be spent on a beautiful house somewhere out in the country, or a sword to protect it. The necklace didn't overpower her though, it showed Jon who she truly was going to be. A highborn, privileged girl who would live out her life in some southern castle shooting out heirs.

"Stare at her any longer and you'll cum in your pants." Theon nudged Jon with his elbow, getting a halfhearted slap back.

"I'm not staring." Jon grunted back, picking up his sword from the dirt.

"Of course ye are. Any man with a half functioning cock wants to rail her. Unfortunately she's too much of a rigid bitch for me, wants to keep her maidenhood apparently." Theon rolled his eyes, beginning to eye up his practice dummy.

"Do me a favor, Greyjoy? Don't fucking talk about Alyce like she's some walking pussy. We grew up with her, give her a little respect." Jon spat at his feet before stalking off to his quarters.

His room was cozy, located in the basement of the Stark's castle. It was closest to the heating pipes however, and was always warm enough once a fire got going. Sometimes Jon would open the windows and let the snow pelt him just to cool off. No one but him had ever been in it, other than the occasional handmaiden who would replace his fire wood and bedsheets. Which is what made the knock on his door suspicious.

He opened the door, his eldest sibling leaning on the door frame. "May I come in?" Robb asked.

Jon nodded, walking over to the desk in his room. "What's going on?"

"You're really going to take the watch?" He sounded unconvinced.

"Yes, Uncle Benjin is going to take me." Jon nodded.

"And you're willing to leave Alyce?"

Jon's heart skipped a beat. "I'm leaving all my friends. Alyce is no different."

"I know how you feel about her, Jon. I know you love her."

Jon sighed, agitated. "Even if I did love her, we would never be together. She's promised to a highborn, I'm just some bastard."

"I agree." Rob scratched at his beard. "But there's still time to show her. Not all love is meant to last forever."

"So you're saying I should try and fuck her before I leave?" Jon laughed cynically.

"Not like you're going to get any pussy once you take your vows."

Jon groaned. "I doubt she even feels the same for me."

"That's where you're wrong, brother. You should see how she looks at you when you're not looking."

"Thank you for your advice, brother. I'll have to think about it."

Robb nodded, taking the que to exit. Before he left, he gave Jon a clap on the back. "Even though you don't share the same name, you'll always be my brother."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this chapter took me so long, I've been busy trying to move! Enjoy!**

The arrival of the King and Queen set Winterfell into a scramble. The town needed to look presentable, and the weather had warmed enough to turn the snowpiles into slush. The dirt paths were now mud traps, and Alyce had nearly fallen twice just trying to walk across the courtyard for a stick of butter. Decorations were being thrown from the concrete pillars, and every hallway now had fresh candles. No family was more stressed than the Starks, however. Word was that King Robert was going to formally ask Ned to serve as his hand.

Alyce walked into the main dining hall, finding Lady Stark yelling at two peasants for raising one of the chandeliers crooked. Alyce sat down at one of the concrete tables, patiently waiting for the Lady to finish her task. Mother had sent Alyce to get a dress from the Lady to wear, as tonight would be the night she met Lord Jaquan. Her nerves were on fire, and her hands shook with an unknown feeling. Was it fear? Or excitement?

"Oh, Alyce! My Gods, I didn't even hear you come in." Lady Stark exclaimed, rubbing her palms on her frock.

"Don't apologize My lady, everyone is stressed with the arrival of so many southern guests." Alyce stood to curtsy.

"How many times do I have to scold you for this formality? You're family to us, dear. Now, walk to my quarters with me. I have the perfect dress for you."

The sun felt warm on Alyce's cheeks as she walked out of the dining hall with Catelyn, elbows interlinked. The lady had a good six inches on her, as well as many more moons experience. Her and Mother had met as children in HighGarden, and had a bond ever since. Catelyn was like an aunt to Alyce, and watched her for nearly two moons when mother and father had to visit High Garden for the death of a long lost relative.

"Are you nervous to meet your betrothed?" Lady Stark asked as she shut the door to their home.

"Yes and no. I'm just hoping he's easy on the eyes." Catelyn laughed at this, sighing deeply.

"I have met this Lord Jaquan years ago. He's a very handsome man, if you're into the southern." She opened a chest of drawers, a plume of dust shooting out. "I haven't touched these clothes since I was your age, I can get a handmaiden to adjust anything that doesn't fit right."

After swatting away most of the dust, Lady Stark pulled out a royal purple dress. It had a mixture of fabrics, from lands Alyce couldn't place. The bodice was thick cotton, with golden stem patterns. The skirt was a nearly see through silk, with black stitching. It was also sleeveless, which made Alyce wonder if she would get cold at night.

"It's… beautiful. Where did you find this?" Alyce traced the silk train with her hands, marveling at the softness.

"It was a wedding gift when I married Eddard. From Q'Arth. Luckily this was before they started to show their tits freely." Catelyn chuckled. "Put it on!"

Alyce nodded, turning her back so Lady Stark could untie her corset. Her baby pink dress fell to the floor, leaving her naked in front of Catelyn. She didn't seem to notice, wrapping the new dress around her slim body. Alyce had nowhere near a perfect body, but she hoped it would please the man she would be married to shortly. She had a lithe body, however stood at a measly height. Her breasts were decent, her ass slim.

"I think we should have your hair curled" The lady mused, picking at strands of Alyce's hair. "And the top half plaited. Here, look in the mirror."

Alyce's breath caught in her throat. The person staring back at her was foreign, older. She couldn't help but want to show herself to Jon. She knew how he felt for her now, and it stuck in the back of her head like a pebble in the shoe. Catelyn excused herself to go find handmaidens and greet the royal family. Luckily Alyce was not required to stand outside as they arrived, as she was neither male or first born. She was sure Oralian was giddy with excitement, to try and impress the Barratheons and Lannisters. He was the next generation of the McConnell name, a noble family nearly as old as the Starks.

Catelyn's handmaidens were skilled at plaiting hair, and didn't tug too hard once. Sometimes Alyce was convinced Selma yanked on her hair for amusement. They applied powders and creams to her face, and plucked stray hairs from her eyebrows and lip. By the time the handmaidens were finished making Alyce look presentable, the sun had dipped far below the trees.

A knock at Catelyn's door startled Alyce. She opened the door to find Robb and Theon, decked out in their family crests. Alyce excused the maidens for the night, letting the two men in.

"Wow Alyce, you look stunning." Robb couldn't keep his eyes on her, while Theon's eyes were planted right on her corseted breasts.

"Well, tonight's the night I get sold off…" Alyce trailed off, sitting on Catelyn and Ned's bed.

"We brought you a gift, something to help calm the nerves." Robb nudged Theon, who was holding something behind his back.

Theon was shaken out of his stupor, handing the bottle of alcohol to Alyce. She pulled the cork out, taking a whiff from the bottle neck. It was acidic, like the smell of tonics Maester would use on scrapes.

"This smells repulsive." Alyce gagged in her mouth, trying to hand the bottle to the boys.

"Ah ah. It's your last night being single, this will make you feel like the princess you are." Robb teased.

"Well, technically you will be a princess." Theon added.

"Excuse me?" Alyce gasped, the bottle frozen near her lips.

"You do realize behind the Martells, the Jaquan's are next in line for the throne?" Theon explained.

Alyce shook her head. "I thought he lived in Meereen."

"He has three different estates. He spends most of it in Meereen, yes, but his alliance is to Dorne ad Sunspear." Theo informed her

"Also-" Robb blurted out. "Mother thought I should bring you that necklace your Lord got for you. She thought it would look nice with your dress."

He handed the velvet box to her, the necklace neatly inserted. Alyce was slightly uncomfortable that Robb was in her living quarters without her permission, but shook it off. She tried to clasp the necklace herself, but the alcohol had made her hands clumsy. Theon skillfully pushed her hair to one side and helped. Alyce suddenly felt like the most stupid girl in Winterfell. She was about to marry a man, whom she had never met, and become a queen to a foreign land.

"I declare a toast." She exclaimed, grabbing the bottle. Theon and Robb quickly poured a glass of wine.

"To the last night of me being a free woman, and to friendship. Thank you for being the brothers I wish I never had." They clinked glasses, before downing the drinks.

Theon and Robb escorted her to the dining hall, as she was clumsy in her heeled shoes. Her family was going to be embarrassed of her drunken antics, but Alyce could not get through the night sober. She needed liquid courage in her veins, to sign away her life and never look back. The second the two boys opened the doors to the dining hall, her eyes met with Lord Drako Jaquan.

He had the skin tone of a bronzed god, his hair dark and tied into a neat bun. He had thick eyebrows, and eyelashes that grazed them when his eyes turned to her. His face was expressionless at first, before his lips curled into a crooked smile. He stood from across the table, and she gulped at how tall he was. He wore unfamiliar clothing, with bright coloring.

Theon and Robb excused themselves to their table, not before Theon pinched her left ass cheek. She yelped in surprise, trying to twist his wrist. When she looked back, Lord Jaquan was standing in front of her. He smelled of exotic spices and surprisingly, lavender.

"You must be Lady McConnell." He reached for her hand, turning it up to kiss the top. "What a pleasure it is to be in the presence of such beauty."

Alyce blushed, completely baffled. It took her a few seconds for her etiquette to come back. She curtsied, bowing her head. "The pleasure is all mine. Welcome to my home."

"Please, come sit at my table. I would like you to meet some of my bannermen." Lord Jaquan took her hand, leading her to the table closest to the Starks. She was so caught up, she didn't even look to see if Jon was watching.

The Lord pulled out her chair for her, as well as scooting it in for her. She was suddenly thrown into a conversation about politics, as well as trying to pass around the ginormous platters of food. The man to her right was Frey Harriot, the man to her left Rodrick Dayne. She was unfamiliar with the names being thrown around, the gossip being spilled. She sipped her wine, which tasted nothing like the northern grapes she was used to.

"We brought that from Dorne. Better than the bitter piss you call wine." Frey exclaimed, earning a round of chortles from the other men.

"Now don't insult the lady's heritage. The north just doesn't have good weather for sweet grapes." Lord Jaquan winked at her, before refilling her glass.

"So tell me, Lady McConnell." A man from across the table, Dane Wyl drawled. "What is it like living in a frigid bitch like winterfell?"

"Well, it isn't so bad during the summers. We just wear a lot of clothes, and drink a lot of wine." She raised her glass, earning a few laughs.

When she had finished her dinner, her belly was hurting from a mixture of alcohol, food, and laughter. The men treated her as an equal at the table, as if her sex didn't make her any lesser of a human. She felt Lord Jaquans hand overlap hers, and she met his eyes.

"Show me around your home, Lady McConnell. I want to walk the walls I have heard so much of." He whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

She agreed, throwing her napkin onto her plate and pushing away from the table. She heard screaming as Arya threw food at Sansa, earning a disapproving glare from Lady Stark and the Queen. Alyce's eyes diverted to see Jon sitting at the end of the table, hardly touching his food. His eyes were hard as he stared at her, no not at. It was like he was staring into her soul, and her mood dropped.

She offered him a small smile before taking Lord Jaquan's arm. Those eyes burned into her memory as she lead him outside. The wind had picked up, blowing through the thin fabric of her dress. She shivered against the Lord, who shrugged out of his outer tunic and placed it around Alyce's shoulders.

"You will never have to worry about getting cold at night again, my Lady." He commented.

They stopped at the top of the wall of winterfell, gazing out at the stars above and the trees beyond. The sky was crystal clear, the stars shimmering in the navy night.

"Why did you want to marry a northern girl?" Alyce blurted, the wine making her bold.

"Strategically, it makes sense. If someone tries to take Dorne, the north will be our allies." He rubbed at his chin, where a thick stubble wrapped around his jaw. "Plus, I've always been told northern girls are the most beautiful. They didn't lie."

Alyce blushed, bowing her head to try and hide it. Lord Jaquan put his fingertip under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. They were a warm brown color, and made Alyce melt.

"Lady McConnell. You are not going to be my slave. You will be the happiest woman in the seven kingdoms. I will treat you with love and respect. If I ever make you feel uncomfortable, do not be afraid to tell me. I will never hurt you, and that I promise."

"Please, call me Alyce. Lady McConnell makes me feel old." Alyce felt his other arm wrap around her waist, bring her closer to his body. She wasn't complaining.

"Well, your name day is in two days. I'm surprised your father has waited this long to marry you off." He smirked, his lips inches from hers.

"Are you calling me old, Lord Jaquan?" She scoffed, feigning hurt.

"Call me Drako. You may be an old bride, but you are beautiful regardless. I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you all night, with such a beautiful dress. Did you get this from Q'Arth? I recognize the patterns." His fingers traced the golden lace on her bodice, sending shivers down her body.

"This dress was once Lady Stark's. She let me have it as an early wedding gift. It's beautiful, but I'm not used to feeling so… exposed."

Drako let out a warm laugh. "You'll be wearing silks like this in SunSpear a lot. Most woman don't even care if their breasts are exposed under it."

"Will I be allowed to visit home?" Alyce asked.

"Of course. I told you, Alyce. You are not my slave. You will be my wife. I want our children to know what their mother grew up in."

Alyce swooned. With that, she felt bold. Her hands wrapped around each side of Drako's face, pressing her lips to his. He was surprised at first, pulling away softly, but then deepening the kiss. It was an unfamiliar feeling, lips pressed against hers. She had only kissed a man once, years ago as a dare. She had kissed Jon. The pebble became a boulder in her shoe, and now all she could think about was his lips dancing across hers, not the foreign Lord. She pulled away, breathless. Her stomach felt like ice and fire, the warmth of the alcohol and chemistry, but the chill of losing her best friend. The man she was truly in love with.

"Is everything alright? You look tense." Drako asked, cupping one of her cheeks.

"Oh, yeah. I've just never kissed a man before." She lied smoothly.

Drako scoffed. "There's no way. I'm sure half of this town wants to jump your bones, male or female."

She laughed at that. "Even if they did, I never payed attention to it. Boys seemed like a distraction."

He looked up at the stars. "It's getting late, why don't we finish this conversation in my room? I promise I won't try to seduce you- yet."

Alyce rolled her eyes. "Are all Dornish men so bold?"

Drako took her elbow in hers, leading the way this time. "If I recall correctly, you were the one who kissed me."

"You'll have to excuse me for that, I haven't been allowed to drink this much before and I'm making some rather questionable choices." Her feet were wobbly under her body, and her vision was slightly blurry.

"We were allowed to drink with every meal since I can remember." Drako sighed. "We raise fewer drunks that way."

"Winterfell could do without the drunks, that's for sure." Alyce sighed, recounting all the times drunk homeless would harass her in the streets, or try and grab at her in allyways.

It was no surprise Drako was staying in the Stark's castle. They walked down the lit corridors, Drako commenting on the artwork and architecture. As they were rounding the corner to his room, she saw a familiar tuft of Tully hair.

Why was Robb patrolling the guests quarter when the party was still going on? She met his eyes, an emotion written on them she couldn't read. Almost, disappointment. She shook the thought from her head. She expected the night to be torturous, spent with some fat old man.

The Stark's Castle had many free rooms, which were all heated and had around the clock maids. His room was fully stocked with candles, firewood, and food fit for a king. The bed had a soft wolfskin blanket, with untouched pillows and silk draped around the wooden pillars.

"Is this not how you live?" He asked, noticing her staring at the room.

"It's not that." She sat down on the bed, her feet aching from the heels. "I've just never been in this part of the Stark's house. When we were kids it was mostly full of bannermen and such."

He walked over to his dining table, pouring a glass of wine for himself, and water for her. "You will get sick if you drink anymore, and I'm not quite sure you want me to see you vomit."

"I'm thankful for that. I have a lot of time to make myself a fool in front of you." She sipped the water, the cool liquid quenching her thirst.

"You could never. I already find myself falling in love with you." He sat next to her, pushing away a strand of hair from her face.

She nearly spit out her drink. "Excuse me?"

"I may not know much about you yet, Alyse. But you are so different than southern girls. You have a good heart. You can get along with people well, see them for more than a threat or a gain. You have never played the game." He mused.

"The game?" She questioned.

"The game of Thrones. You have never seen what people will do for power."

"I'm not some naïve child." Alyce scoffed. "Do you not think I know of the men my father had to slaughter to get where he is today?"

"I apologize, I didn't mean to offend you." Drako ran his hands through his hair, his bun falling out of place. "I have never, really tried to get to know a woman."

The fire in Alyce's veins cooled. She isn't the only one being thrown into something new.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I didn't care for the company of a woman… outside the bedroom. I was so focused on rising to power that I didn't seek out relationships that didn't gain me anything." He confessed, swirling the wine in his cup.

He was nervous, she thought. She never made a man nervous before.

"This relationship gains you a lot of power. I don't see why you pay me any attention other than a woman to drag around on your arm."

"Are you trying to say my intentions aren't pure?" He challenged back.

"I don't know anything about you. You are a foreign man who is taking me away from my home to wed me so I can bare your children. What am I to expect? The world is cruel."

"The world will not be cruel to you any longer. I want to make sure of that. Anything you want and need, I will give you. If you are to be my partner, you will have to experience things unlike anything you ever have before. I don't want you to be miserable."

His lips pressed onto hers once more. They were cool, the taste of summer wine on his lips. This man had changed her life in a span of hours, yet she could not stop thinking about how she was hurting the man she loved. She was here for three more days, two of those being an unwed woman. They were to be married at the Weirwood the day before the departure, and a renewal of the vows on the white beaches of Dorne.

His body pressed onto hers, pushing her down onto the wolf pelt. She felt a warmth in an area she never had before, an urge repressed for nearly 19 years. He was on top of her, his hands trailing down her waist before venturing up to her breasts.

She pulled away, her body screaming to stay. "If I don't stop now, I'll make a mistake."

He groaned, laying beside her. "Who knew two days could feel like a lifetime."

"I probably should get back to my house, I'm sure the feast is over and my family is wondering where I ran off too." Alyce tried to salvage her messy hair, before giving up and tying it into a low bun.

"I'll escort you back." He commented, getting up from the bed as well.

"Are you sure? I'm sure one of the Stark guards could get me back safely." She felt ashamed to walk around the town and risk seeing Jon.

"I'm sure they could. But I would feel much more comfortable if I knew for sure you were safe." He kissed her on the forehead, before opening the door for her.

"You know, we never did get to finish our conversation." Alyce teased, a sly grin on her face.

"For another night, perhaps tomorrow." He linked his elbow with hers, and lead her out the door.

Jon's POV

The feast was his worst nightmare. Jon could feel rage in every fiber of his being as he sat at the table, his food barely touched. Alyce had looked breathtaking, the most beautiful he had ever seen her. She was radiant, the purple dress making her complexion glow and her snow white hair pop out. Theon and Robb had insisted she was in love with him, which he never should have believed. No high born like her would ever look at a bastard that way.

He was right. She didn't even look at him once during the meal, she was completely awestruck with her betrothed. He had everything Jon didn't. The looks, the money, the power. He had spent his day coming up with a speech in his head to give to her, pouring his heart out for her to hold. He had dreamt of the day where he would get to hold her body to his, to kiss her lips. That day would never come.

When Alyce left the dinner early with the Lord, Jon had lost it. Nearly shoving the table over, he stormed out of the dining hall mid conversation. His only solace came from trying to hack a training dummy to bits, his sword clanging against the wooden post underneath. He knew it was crazy. In three days, he would take his vows and leave Winterfell forever to live a life on the wall. He would never see Alyce again. His heart ached.

"Jon, what the hell was that? Mother nearly had a fit!" Jon heard Robb's annoyed voice echoing through the corridor. Jon didn't answer, only threw down his sword to look at his half sibling.

"Look, tonight didn't go as expected. I thought giving her that ale would get her tipsy enough to see you." Robb sighed, sitting on a bale of hay.

"It shouldn't matter. She's never going to see me again. I was an idiot to think she would ever look at me that way."

Robb groaned. "Enough of the pity party. So Alyce is off the table, you have three days to whore around Winterfell with no strings attached. Why are you not celebrating in some whore house getting drunk?"

Jon laughed, bitterly. "And risk getting a girl pregnant? No child deserves the life of a bastard. It's not worth the risk."

"I understand that you're upset. But making mother look like a monster isn't how you fix that." Robb sighed. "Tell her, Jon. Tell Alyce how you feel about her. At least you'll be able to live with that once you're gone, that you had the balls to do it."

Jon scoffed at Robb, grabbing his sword before exiting the training courtyard. What did his brother know about loving a woman? He had a new whore on his lap each visit to the brothel. Jon growled in frustration, stalking to the McConnell's house. He remembered summer nights eating fresh fruit outside her door, and chasing her brothers around their house. It was more of a mansion, fit for a family of their stature. Greggard was a war hero, Violet the daughter of an equally powerful southern house. He approached the front door, hesitating to knock. Would it seem odd? He would eat breakfast with her occasionally after training, and her family always seemed to enjoy his company.

He knocked on the wooden door, his stomach in his throat. He needed to stop being a pussy, Robb was right. Violet, Alyce's mom answered, her stomach the size of a watermelon. He was surprised she could still be on her feet, the child was due any day now.

"Oh, Jon! I haven't seen you around here in moons. How've you been?" Violet tried to give him a hug, but her arms couldn't fit all the way around him.

"Good, M'Lady. Joining the Night's Watch in three days time."

"What an honor to your family, I'm proud of you. I'm pretty sure Alyce is in her quarters getting ready for her dancing lesson. She's got two left feet, I swear!" Violet huffed, going back to the stew that was broiling over their hearth.

"Thank you, Lady McConnell." Jon dismissed himself.

It wasn't that he didn't like the Lady. She had a lot of the same qualities that Alyce did, which made him think of the future that he could never give Alyce. Her children were going to be foreign, southern kids with deep skin and more importantly, power. Jon paused at Alyce's door, hearing a conversation between her and her handmaiden. He didn't want to eavesdrop, instead knocking on the door.

Alyce's handmaiden answered the door. She was a pretty girl, but had a sullen attitude to her.

Alyce was looking at herself in her mirror, adjusting one of the many braids in her hair. She looked most beautiful like this. Simple clothes, braided hair, nothing on her face. She wore a pale pink satin dress, with an intricate silver belt. Her eyes brightened when she saw him.

She jumped out of her chair, rushing to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She was much shorter than him, and he had to awkwardly lean down to envelop her in a hug. She no longer smelt like herself, instead bathed in southern perfume and wine on her lips. Even when the boys stole wine from his parents, Alyce never partook.

"Oh, Jon." She sighed, her head resting on his chest.

"I need to talk to you, Alyce. About something kind of serious." Jon pulled away, staring into her grey eyes.

Concerned flashed across her face. "Well, you've already told me you're leaving forever. So there's not much more that could surprise me."

He brought her to sit on her bed. He noticed how she kept her hands wrapped around his, her eyes searching his. "Listen, Alyce-"

"I know what you're going to say, Jon." Alyce blurted.

He looked at her. "Will you ever let me finish a sentence? Go on, tell me what you think I was going to say."

He watched her face flush with color. Alyce was bold in her childhood, but lost the sassiness as she was taught otherwise. Remarks like that used to start fist fights.

"I know how you feel about me. I think Robb was in both of our ears trying to get us to… well, you know." She was flustered, pulling her hands out of his to mess with her hair.

"I didn't come here to try and fuck you. I know you're keeping your maidenhood for your betrothed. I just couldn't leave you without you knowing the truth."

And then, Alyce was kissing him.

Her lips were soft and warm, tasting of sweet summer wine. He was startled at first, his mind not knowing how to react. At first, he was thinking about how he was kissing another man's promised. That thought quickly fizzled as his hands went to her waist, kissing her back with a passion. If this was their last time together, so be it. He would remember it to the day he died. He pushed her onto the bed, his lips trailing to her neck. He felt her warmth under him, how her body was squirming for him.

"Jon." She whispered, her voice as light as a feather.

He brought his eyes to her. He would never tire of looking at her beautiful features. "What is it?"

Alyce paused, seeming to be fighting something. "I love you, Jon Snow."

"I love you too, Alyce McConnell."

Alyce woke up to two birds singing a tune on her windowsill. The sun had pushed the clouds aside, though there looked to be a storm coming in for the night. Today, she was to be married. It was a bittersweet thought, so many conflictions. She sat on her windowsill, holding her knees to her body. It was a dream to be marrying Drako, but she would be leaving the man she had loved all her life.

Her door opened, her mother appearing with a gaggle of handmaidens. She had her wedding lunch in a few hours, and the ceremony after the sun dips below the trees.

"Goodmorning, my dear. Are you nervous?" Violet asked, handing her the dress she was carrying over her shoulder.

"Yes. He seems like he will be a good husband, though." Alyce mused, looking at her dress.

The dress was the color of wine, a thick material with a tight corset sewn in. "Was this Lady Starks?"

Her mother laughed. "This is actually mine from when I was around your age. I thought you would enjoy it for an occasion this special. Did I ever tell you about how I met your father?"

Yes, a million times, Alyce thought. "I don't think you have."

"Well, we were just coming out of a light winter. It was only two moons long, and the snow rarely stuck. I was out with my mother at the market, I think we were picking up flowers for the dining hall. Anyways, I see your father and Eddard Stark riding two beautiful stallions, and I just knew it. That your father was going to be my husband. And sure enough, my father was friends with the McConnells. They set up the betrothal, and now here you are." She gushed, as the handmaidens began to prep Alyce.

"That's so romantic." Alyce tried to sound interested. But in reality, her stomach was in knots.

"More luck than romance, my dear." Her mother mused, untying the back of her nightgown for her.

It seemed like it took hours for the handmaidens to get Alyce presentable. It started out with a steaming hot bath, filled with flowers and sweet smelling oils. They scrubbed her body with coarse sugar that smelt like lavender and stung slightly. It was supposed to remove all the dry skin and leave her polished and radiant. One handmaiden, a sullen looking blonde, was carefully running a straight razor down her legs, removing every hair.

After her bath, the girls took turns drying her hair with a thick wool towel. She was tied into her dress, the corset almost uncomfortably too tight. The dress was made for her mother's teenage figure, not Alyce's. Her mother was shorter than her, with bigger breasts and thighs. It didn't look bad, but felt loose in certain areas. Her hair was put in a single braid that wrapped around her head like a crown. Her face was left alone, other than a few stray eyebrow hairs that had to be plucked.

Her nerves were growing by the moment. After the late breakfast, she would be taken back to her room to get ready for her marriage. Would Jon be there? Would he watch as she pledged her life to another man, a trueborn. One of Drako's bannermen entered her room, to escort her to the grand dining hall. The Stark's were more than happy to host the feasts for her marriage.

"What is your name?" Alyce asked the man as he took her hand, placing a kiss on it.

"I am Ser Bellan Granger, what a pleasure it is to escort my Lord's future wife to her meal." He announced.

He was a short man, with northern features. He didn't look like a Dorne native, but she couldn't place his last name to a house of honor. Bellan had a thick mop of honey blonde hair, a hooked nose, and pale blue eyes. There also weren't a lot of Ser's in Dorne, according to a book she read in the library years ago.

They left her house, finding it already empty. Her whole family had left without even telling her, which left a bad taste in her mouth.

"You're not from Dorne, are you?" Alyce felt bold asking this stranger about his lineage.

He laughed, a warm sound. "No. Lord Jaquan met me while I was training in King's Landing. I wanted nothing more than to be a member of the Kings Guard, to protect Aegon Targaryan with my life. Your Lord showed me that he was a monster, and my skills could be used elsewhere. So after I was knighted, I left King's Landing to travel to Dorne. I've been one of Drako's best guards since."

"You aren't wearing any armor, though." Alyce mused.

"When you wear fancy silver armor and carry around those god awful two handed swords, you make yourself a target. I want to look like a commoner, I want to be underestimated."

Alyce didn't know how to respond. Instead, she took a deep breath to steady herself. The air was sharp in her chest, the cold air mixing with the aroma of the earth and smoke from a nearby fire. Those scents would soon just be a memory to her, an almost forgotten past. She had half a mind to pick up her dress from dragging across the mud, and run in the opposite direction from the feast.

"Don't be nervous, Lady McConnell." Bellan commented. "Is this your first marriage?"

Alyce was taken back by the question. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"Well, usually girls are wed much younger. I assumed you were widowed. I apologize for assuming such things about you."

"My father wanted to wait to wed me until he found someone who could give him the power he wanted. He wasn't going to marry his eldest daughter off to an unknown family." She explained.

"Smart man." Bellan commented, before the conversation was halted to a stop.

In the middle of the courtyard, the body of a direwolf was hung for all to see. But it wasn't just any wild wolf. It was Lady.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay! I was so caught up in moving and schoolwork that I neglected this story. However, I promise to be more active.**

She felt a scream catch in her throat, her hands instead coming up to her mouth. Ser Bellan drew a silver dagger from his belt, throwing his arm out to protect Alyce. He crouched down to Lady, using a gloved hand to move her heads back and forth.

"It's been dead a while, M'Lady." He commented, sheathing his weapon.

"Why would someone kill Lady Sansa's direwolf?" Alyce questioned, her heart beating nearly out of her chest.

"I will get to the bottom of this. Don't let this ruin your day." Bellan tried to comfort her, but the words did nothing to calm her shot nerves.

He kept his hand firmly on his weapon as they navigated the city, which was filled with people. They were all aware of the marriage between one of their highborn ladies, and many of them congratulated her as she made her way to the dining hall. They could hear the twang of string instruments hallways away, as well as the boisterous laughing of drunk guests. Only highborns and their bannermen were allowed in, and many commoners stood outside the windows, gossiping about what was taking place.

Ser Bellan excused himself after entering the room, leaving her alone. She made her way to the center dining table, where her family and Drako were waiting for her. He raised his glass to her, standing up. The hall went quiet.

"Thank you all for coming here this afternoon. I would like to also thank the McConnell's for allowing me the privilege of getting to marry their beautiful daughter, Lady Alyce. Now please, eat and be merry." Jaquan said elegantly, the words sounding like he rehearsed them multiple times.

The hall exploded in cheers and claps, her father also standing and raising his cup to clink it with Lord Jaquan. Alyce took her seat to the right of her betrothed. He looked ravishing in a similar red overcoat, adorned with jewels and a thin gold sash.

"Did you sleep well, My lady?" Jaquan asked, his free hand coming to rest on her thigh. It sent tingles up her leg and warmed her heart.

"I did. However, finding Lady Sansa's pet direwolf dead in the courtyard did disturb my peaceful day." Alyce kept her voice low, as not to raise suspicion from her family.

"Ah, yes. I did hear about that. Apparently Lady Arya's direwolf attacked Prince Joffrey, and Cersei demanded reparations. When they couldn't find the Lady's dog, they killed Sansa's instead." He explained, sounding slightly disturbed.

"Why would they do that?" Alyce gasped, trying to maintain a smile on her face. She searched the front tables to find the Stark's, all but Jon present. Her heart dropped slightly.

"The Lannister's are cruel, everyone in the Capitol knows this. Cersei has such a clamp on the King's balls, what she says goes in petty disputes. Especially when their heir is injured." He sighed. "Try not to think of it much, try and eat some."

Alyce nodded, tasting the delicious lamb stew in front of her. It was a perfect temperature, as it cooled in her late arrival. Her eyes kept on scanning the Stark's table. Sansa's face looked puffy from crying, her eyes red rimmed and her shoulders slumped. Arya seemed unaffected, shoveling her face with the luxurious meal. Eddard was deep in conversation with the King, his face stuck in a scowl. The Queen was seated at the opposite end of the long table, separated by a line of bannermen. Alyce studied her as she took delicate spoonful's of stew. She was expressionless, taking turns blowing on her younger childrens food. Myrcella was stunning for her young age, and would make any man swoon come womanhood. Tommen was a pudgy, softer version of his sister, and seemed sullen. Joffrey was seated by his father and Eddard, and was telling some grand story by the erratic expressions on his face.

"Are you expecting someone to be here, Alyce?" Drako's voice snapped her out of her stupor.

"No, I was just trying to listen to whatever tale the Prince was trying to tell Lord Eddard." She smiled, taking a gulp of her wine.

"I would rather have this conversation in private, however we won't have any of that before our ceremony." Drako drew out his words, as if he was testing the waters. "I have heard rumors that the Lord's bastard fancies you. Many of the servants here whisper his name and yours together."

Alyce's food got stuck in her throat. She coughed, rather unladylike, swigging the rest of her wine down to flush the stuck food down.

"Me? And a bastard?" She let out a coy laugh. "That's ridiculous. We were quite close friends as children, but I would never fancy a lowborn. I can't say about his intentions towards me, however."

"Any man who knows who you truly are would fall for you Alyce. I just do not want another man pining for my wife." His voice sounded dark, almost as if he was jealous.

"You have nothing to worry about, Drako." At least that wasn't a lie. She wrapped her hand around his, giving him a reassuring smile. Hopefully her coy innocence wouldn't be lost on him.

"I trust you. I shouldn't be listening to servants gossip." He shook his head.

Alyce felt bad for lying to him. However, she could not jeopardize her families future because she fell for a bastard. The rest of the lunch was filled with spectacle, many performances catching her eye. Men juggled swords, two women danced a jig, and someone even breathed fire. The lunch came to a lull, and many nobles excused themselves to sober up enough for the ceremony. Puffy snowflakes began to fall as the clouds drew in, and the sun began to dip behind the pine trees.

"I must excuse myself to get ready for tonight, my lady. I cannot wait to see you walking down the aisle for me, Alyce." Drako stood up, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"I will see you soon, Lord." Alyce responded, getting up as well.

Two Stark guards accompanied her on the walk back to her homestead. Drunken commoners were throwing their own party in the town's courtyard, music drowned out by the cheers of men and women. She caught Theon snogging some whore behind the horse shed, which sent a pang to her heart. She wished her life was as easy as his. Shipped off as a political prisoner at a young age, and living lavishly off his family's wealth. He just as easily could have been locked up in a cell.

"Alyce!" She heard him call, easily pushing the girl aside to meet her stride.

"Theon! I didn't see you at the lunch." Alyce mused, trying to place his face at one of the tables.

The guards excused themselves, as Theon was just as strong as both of them, minus the steel armor. Theon always toted his steel sword, with an intricate heel. "I was there for a bit. I was bored by the noble talk."

Alyce rolled her eyes. "And trying to fuck every whore in town?"

"I'm young and unwed, don't judge me!" Theon said in mock hurt, throwing his hands up.

"Have you seen Jon?" Alyce asked, lowering her voice.

He sighed. "He left early in the 'morn. He's required to be at the ceremony, from what I've heard."

"I hoped I'd be able to see him before that. Lord Jaquan has heard whispers of his feelings for me."

"And did you tell Lord Jaquan of your feelings for Jon?"

"Am I stupid? Of course not. He wouldn't wed me if he knew I was in love with another man." Alyce was nearly shoulder checked into a mudpile by a drunken man, if Theon didn't grab her by the waist as she was thrown into him.

"Stupid enough to not watch where you're going. Were you wanting to see him so you could finally get naked and sweaty with him?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Theon!" She mocked innocence, as if the thought never crossed her mind. "You know I have to keep my maidenhood."

"I know. I wish it was easier for you. Me and Jon never got along well, but we always wanted to see you two together." He mused as they arrived at her house.

"We?" Alyce asked.

"Me and Robb, of course. I'm sure Lord Stark also had an inkling of the feelings between you two, especially as children."

"Well I thank you for that Theon. But Lord Jaquan seems like a genuine man. At least I wont be repulsed having to lie with him."

They embraced, before Alyce entered her stay. Inside was a madhouse. All of the noblewoman she had acquainted herself with were inside, drinking and feasting with her mother. Her dress was on a mannequin in the dining room, and she couldn't help but gasp. It was white silk, adorned with pearls and crystals. The arms were mesh, white flowers sewn in with pearls on the inside of each. Her train also followed that pattern, the headband gaudy with expensive jewels.

"It's beautiful. Who made this?" Alyce asked.

"All of us worked on it together, M'Lady. There's an overcoat too since we didn't expect it to snow so soon. The Starks were right that winter was coming." One of her mother's handmaidens spoke up.

She was rushed into preparations. A new bath was drawn, this time with red rose petals and musky smells. Her handmaidens said the smell aroused men. She was nervous to consummate her marriage, as she had heart tales of the discomfort.

Her mother came to her chambers as Selma was braiding her hair. "Since Lord Jaquan is a follower of the Seven, the ceremony will be a bit different than what you've seen."

Alyce nodded. "Could you explain?"

Her mother spent the next two hours drilling her lines into her head. She felt overwhelmed at this moment. Weddings in Winterfell did not require many spoken words, but suddenly she was expected to memorize words for gods she didn't believe in. She had one true god, this was to please her husband to be. Her dress fit snugly on her body, the silk smooth against her shaven body. The overcoat was thick pelt, but still showed off the elegance of her bodice.

"Oh my dear Alyce, we've dreamt of this day." Her mother mused as she placed her veil on her head.

"I'm afraid, mother." Alyce's voice was small with fear.

"My darling, this is your moment. Everyone will be looking at your beauty, wishing they were you. Bask it in." Her mother tried to hug her, but her arms didn't wrap all the way around.

Her father was waiting for Alyce at the front door. He wore his most expensive suit, as well as the sword he fought with in the great war. He looked proud of Alyce for the first time in her life. She finally was amounting to something in his eyes.

"You look marvelous, my daughter." Greggard commented warmly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Just don't let me trip, father." Alyce said, trying not to cry.

They walked at a slow pace to the Weirwood. "My darling, you are going to be the best Queen of Dorne."

"They're going to see me as a Northern Usurper, father. They might even question my heritage, as I look so alike to the Targayren princess."

"Nonsense, daughter. You are kind, gentle. Unlike female rulers, who were raised to be hard. Show them your love, your kindness. But be strong. Do not let anyone take advantage of you." Her father gave the best advice to her.

She saw the lanterns covered in fresh snow, leading them to the Weirwood. Men and woman were on each side of them, holding candles and torches. As she walked down, she caught Jons eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, her feet threatening to trip. Her father tightened his grip on her arm. She could see the sadness in Jon's eyes, watching as a silent tear fell from his eye. She forced herself to look forward to Drako, pushing her chin up.

He beamed at her, his lips pursed in the warmest of smiles. Alyce and her father now stood in front of him and a Septon, a foreign man brought in from King's Landing. Greggard pushed the veil from her face, his face also plastered with a smile.

The septon walked forward. "Who comes here tonight?"

"Lady Alyce of house McConnell. A woman grown and trueborn. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" Her father boomed, his voice full of pride.

Lord Jaquan came forward. "Drako, of house Jaquan. Second in line to the throne of Dorne and Sunspear. Who gives her?"

"Greggard, of house McConnell. Father of Alyce."

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The septon announced as her father stepped back.

Lord Jaquan was beside her now, and her heart was beating like a caged animal. She turned her back to him, feeling the warmth of his velvet cloak wrap around her shoulders. She turned back to face the Septon, lacing her hand with the Lords and holding it at chest level. The Septon wrapped a thin white ribbon around their interlaced hands.

"My lords, my Ladies. We are gathered here today, in the eyes of both the old gods and the new, to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, together. For now and for eternity." The septon said. "Let it be known that Drako of house Jaquan, and Alyce of house McConnell are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."

Her thoughts raced to Jon. How she was meant to be happy in this moment, but could only think about how it should be another man holding her hand right now.

"In the sight of the Gods, I hearby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity."

The septon unraveled the ribbon, and Alyce faced her groom.

"Look upon eachother and say the words." The Septon commanded.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger." Alyce and Drako said in unison.

"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, to the end of days." Drako called out.

"I am his and he is mine. From this day, to the end of days." Alice repeated.

"With this kiss" Drako was whispering to her, Alyce doubted anyone could hear him. "I pledge my love."

His hands caressed her cool face, before his lips danced across hers.

She was now Alyce Jaquan, Lady of Dorne. They held hands and turned to the audience, where cheers were heard. However, all she could focus on was the shadow of Jon running back to Winterfell.


End file.
